


First Cut

by Kissa



Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: Cautionary Tale, Gen, No Smut, ever wondered, teen August, what if, young August
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-30 20:12:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19410541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kissa/pseuds/Kissa
Summary: I've been getting some asks over time to the topic: "what was August Walker as a teen like?" and this is the result.





	First Cut

**Author's Note:**

> I know this is a hard to digest story; I don't condone the stuff Celeste pulls, and I completely condemn the way August's parents deal with it and how they divide their attention and their love between their 4 kids. But sometimes I feel the need to go to the less comfortable spaces of my imagination and as long as everyone who reads is aware of it all being fiction and the events depicted being condemnable, we should all be safe. 
> 
> And yes, Selene is a knight on a white horse character, but I've had moments in life when I so would have needed someone to swoop in and make second chances possible for me. Or someone to just love me consistently and unconditionally - and I think that is a relatable feeling for many people, which is why I don't feel too worried for writing Selene the way I did.
> 
> As usual, I'd be very grateful for feedback in written form.

_All that no-one sees,_

_You see,_

_What's inside of me,_

_Every nerve that hurts,_

_You heal,_

_Deep inside of me, oo-oohh,_

_You don't have to speak,_

_I feel._

_Björk - Joga - Homogenic_

  
  
~~~

“Gu, come inside, you’ll get sunburnt.” You call to the boy, who is currently engulfed in one of Plato’s dialogues under a walnut tree in your garden. “Liz called.” 

“Aunty Sel, I’ll soon be ready and come inside to help with dinner.” The boy says, his angelic features briefly scrunching in a grimace of displeasure, which reminds you of a puppy who was given a treat he doesn’t like. “Oh yeah? What does she want?”  
  
You know he is already sunburnt - his skin is hilariously fragile and it only needs the barest amount of exposure to redden and burn. He hasn’t felt it yet, immersed in his reading and stubborn as usual. And, like all teenagers, he will insist he knows best when to come inside - and grit his teeth through his skin feeling two sizes too small so as not to give you the “I told you so” satisfaction.  
  
His mother and you go back a long time and have been through thick and thin together. You helped deliver all her kids and you have a bit of a weakness for the only boy in the family. August is a good boy, gentle and caring, but also very angry and restless for some reason. You’ve always been the cool eccentric aunt, despite there not being any blood relation. Aunty Selene, as everyone calls you, gives the best presents and brings the most fascinating souvenirs from her travels. Liz asked you to take August under your wing and give him some space to breathe, because she saw that in her big family, it was hard for him to get the love and the attention he needs. Noah, her husband, is a childish, violent asshole, who has taken out his frustrations on August on more than one occasion, which made you instantly hate him. Children are not punching bags - if you don’t like them, don’t have them.  
  
You’ve seen August with bruises more than once, but he refused to say how he got them, despite his stormy eyes saying he wanted to do more than just tell on his father.  
  
Men like Noah are not rare. He is envious of son, of his youth and zest for life and of the future that lies ahead. He only loves his son when August wins prizes or when his teachers compliment the parents on the student’s outstanding accomplishments.  
  
Which is why August prefers hanging out at your place - and not just because your house has a pool and a mini-gym and you let him work the grill and loom around you in the kitchen. Other sixteen year olds are getting hazed into gangs and learning to deal weed, August learns cooking and mindfulness. And recently, you introduced him to your friend who owns a Brazilian Jiu Jitsu school and who agreed to sign August up for classes. You’re in the advanced class, and you thought the baby would benefit from knowing martial arts too - and if you’re honest, you’re hoping this will allow him to one day stand up to his father when it comes to that. When, because Noah’s temper is a ticking time bomb, and the stronger August grows up to be, the more vicious the abuse will get. 

When August comes inside, he is putting his shirt back on and you can already see he is wincing from his skin burning. But he does his best at hiding it. 

“Your mother wanted to let you know they need you at the house today. She said you need to shower and put something nice on to greet Celeste.”  
  
This Celeste, you were told, is a younger niece or cousin from Noah’s side and Noah decided to let her stay at his house for the time being. But she’s still in her late twenties, early thirties. An artist, of sorts? You didn’t care, so you didn’t listen to the details.  
  
“Can’t I sleep over here and go in the morning? I wanted to watch Daria!”  
  
“Liz insisted. This is important to your father, apparently.” You say, sighing. “Don’t be sad, tiny baby.” You add, going to give him a hug and loving how he dips his head and burrows in your hair. “I’ll drive you back.”  
  
This always cheers August up, because you have a vintage Ferrari, a stick shift car that you’ve let August practice driving on and usually he’s allowed to drive it from your home and to the overpass connecting your regional road with the highway. And that’s usually the highlight of his week.  
  
You do take over before entering the highway, not wanting any trouble and unnecessary risks.  
  
“Did mom say anything about this Celeste?”  
  
“To be honest, I didn’t listen. Before we leave, sit down and have some dinner.”  
  
You also feed the boy regularly - he is growing rapidly and his metabolism needs real, good fuel in good amounts, something his family of ever-dieting women and alcoholic father find absolutely outrageous. Even Liz complains.  
  
When you drop him off at his parents’ house, he says his goodbyes in the car, hugging you and kissing your cheeks three times, lingering with his arms around you, always reluctant to disappear inside and leave you.  
  
He promises to drop by the next day, but he can’t hold his promise - Liz tells you he’s been tasked with showing Celeste the city. 

You should know better than to ignore the alarm bells in your solar plexus, but jaded, you just tell yourself you’re sulking because someone else stole “your” kid, even though it was clear he was not your kid - his parents just wanted to make him someone else’s problem for a bit, and now that they have a use for him, he’s their son again. 

***  
  
The next time you see August, he is in bed, with a high fever and looking pitiful. It’s sunstroke, which he ignored until he couldn’t anymore.  
  
Now he’s just miserable, unable to keep food down, puking almost all the time and hallucinating, soaking the sheets in sweat although he has chills.  
  
“I brought you some soup, Liz will warm it for you when you want it, and here is some elderflower lemonade from that bush behind the shed. You should try and have some, it’s got vitamin C and other good things. It might settle your belly, too.”  
  
August sits up and does try the lemonade, managing to take a few sips. When the nausea doesn’t hit, he looks at you in that quiet, warm way of his that lets you know he appreciates your gesture.  
  
“Are you going to hide in here much longer, August?” Celeste says, entering the room without knocking. “Oh - it’s you. You must be Selene?” She adds, giving you a disdainful slow once-over. “Anyway your parents said you’re taking me to the White Night Downtown thingy. Put some clothes on, I don’t want to be late and miss something.”  
  
She then leaves, slamming the door.  
  
August is in no condition to go out, but he already decided he is feeling much better and has to follow Celeste.  
  
“Is there any way I can persuade you to stay in bed longer and get some rest?” You ask.  
  
“Nope,” August says and grins, getting out of bed and starting to dress.  
  
“Shouldn’t you shower for going out?” You ask.  
  
“For being in a smelly crowd and in the smell of sweat, cigarettes and weed? Axe will be more than enough.” August says.  
  
One look at Celeste was enough and you now know the whole story. Poor August doesn’t stand a chance - unless he decides to resist, because that boy is the most stubborn person you’ve ever met. 

Hopefully this doesn’t end up in tears.  
  
Not for August, at least. Because you could already cry - you really are losing your borrowed baby. And it’s fine, really, but you always imagined it would come with warning signs. But it was a sudden change, triggered by the arrival of a stranger in a Chanel dress.  
  
***  
  
You don’t see August that often anymore. He no longer comes to grill at your house and to cuddle your cats or play with your dog. He is no longer raiding your fridge.  
  
He does call to ask if he can come and use the pool when you’re not there.  
  
And because you are salty and still upset at being replaced so unceremoniously, you say no. You feel kind of bad about it, because you don’t like saying no to August, but on the other hand, you also picture him and Celeste in your pool, and if that happened, the pool would have to be filled in and turned into a tennis court. Or a corpse dumping ground.  
  
Liz still comes over and you drop by her house for coffee and cake - but August’s never there, either in town or just not wanting to see you. You try being reasonable about it, he’s a teenager. But it still hurts.  
  
Liz is excited, though.  
  
“He and Celeste are hanging out a lot. Noah is pleased. At least he no longer suspects August is gay.” She explains.  
  
Of course. Noah, a maggot who doesn’t deserve the lovely family he has, much less his beautiful, gentle and compassionate son, is the one who needs to be pleased and appeased. It’s so important that his son not be gay, that he needs to be pushed into the claws of a narcissistic stranger who will use him, in whatever capacity, and then discard him like a useless shell, once he’s drained of his purpose.  
  
To her, he’s a summer’s entertainment. To him, she’s someone who gives him attention and wants all his time and company - it must feel so flattering and reassuring at his age, especially since he never got the attention and airtime from his family until now.  
  
It all goes down at the barbecue - which is the last time you set foot at Liz’s house.  
  
You finally get to talk to August, ask him how he’s doing, if he’s starting to consider what colleges to apply to once he graduates. But he is not even thinking of college - he tells you he is considering doing a two-year course to get a contractor’s qualification so he can work locally and make money.  
  
“We’re thinking of moving in together at some point. Maybe have a couple babies. I’ll stay home and be a mom, and August will look after us,” Celeste says, after inserting herself in the conversation, wrapping a possessive arm around him.  
He hasn’t even started shaving yet, and this woman wants him to support her?! It feels as though you’ve been shot into space and you’re suffocating slowly.  
  
“You know, Gu, you don’t have to go along with everything Celeste says. If you don’t think something will make you happy, you can say no.” You tell him, deciding to ignore her for now.  
  
“You know what, Selene?! Back off. Why are you so angry that I’m finally being treated like a person? I’m not a child, I’m not your toy. Stop lurking around me like a fucking predator and go back to your billion cats and devil dog! And fucking stop calling me Gu. In case you haven’t noticed, it’s been a hot minute since I was a toddler.” He snaps.  
  
You are shaken to your core to have him speak to you like this. Where is the polite and kind August you knew all these years? And why did he choose to be so cruel all of a sudden?  
  
As you walk away, you hear Celeste congratulate him, saying “Well done, standing up to her like this. You don’t need that toxicity in your life.”  
  
You know exactly how this plays out from here on. But some people really need to make their own mistakes to learn and, legally and morally, you did your best to stop August from ruining his life.   
  
You try and move on as best as you can. Taking some freelance jobs, traveling the world again, but only in short bouts, because you do enjoy your home and pets.  
  
Months later, you see Celeste in town, riding in a red convertible with an older man. Showing off a large diamond ring.  
  
You know the guy. And he knows you, so when she whispers something in his ear, looking at you evilly, he makes eye contact with you and nods his head apologetically, then makes a sharp right turn.  
  
At home, you let your dog off his leash and watch him get sniffed by the cats as you unpack what you brought from town and settle for a quiet afternoon with cocktails and goa music.

Later that evening, you get a phone call from a very worried Liz.  
  
“Is August at your place?”  
  
“No… we haven’t spoken since that barbecue.” You say, although your heart is tightening with fear because you know what she’ll say next.  
  
“He hasn’t come home and I have no idea where he might be. I’ve been to the bars and clubs, no one has seen him. Please, I know we’ve had our differences in the past, Selene, but I really, really need your help.”  
  
“Before I go to find him, tell me what happened? I’ve seen Celeste with another guy in town.”  
  
“Well, you know. She met someone. Older. Richer. Willing to spoil her with expensive things.” Liz says. “They’re getting married. August… did not take it very well. I told him breaking up is a part of being an adult. But she was his first… serious relationship.”  
  
“It’s rich of you to call that a serious relationship,” you say dryly. You’d say a lot more, but right now what matters is finding August.  
  
First off, fuck BOTH of August’s parents for viewing his spending time with Celeste as a good thing. Second of all, how was this a serious anything (relationship would be calling it too much for what it actually was), when she dumped him like an old rag as soon as someone with money showed up?  
  
“I was worried for August! As a mother, you watch all your children and worry for them, something YOU would not understand,” Liz says. You’re way past feeling the jabs from a woman who lost all worth in your eyes. “He was spending all his time with you at your place, instead of with girls his age. It’s unnatural and wrong. When we were his age, we were actively interested in boys!” 

“Liz, your son is sixteen. Six-fucking-teen. He doesn’t shave yet. His face still has baby soft contours and his voice hasn’t dropped. He’s not sure what career to choose, and to save him from, I don’t know, feeling like an only child at someone else’s house, you pushed him into the arms of a woman who is only four years younger than me? What the actual fuck?” 

By now you are raising your voice and it’s resounding against the walls of the hallway at the back of your house.  
  
“I know I’m not August’s mother. But you are, and you keep walking away from him - you’re supposed to protect him from your psycho husband, not use him as a shield!”  
  
“Just find my son. We don’t have to keep being friends, just help me find him,” Liz says, slamming the phone as she hangs up.  
  
You put on your raincoat and your boots, meaning to go and look for August at his secret hangout places - only to find him on your back porch, curled up on your bench and crying. He’s also wet to the bone, because he walked to your house through the rain, all the way from the bus stop.  
  
“Little bean,” you whisper and feel yourself welling up with tears, barely holding back as you go and sit next to him. 

He pulls back.  
  
“How can you even look at me? I screwed up. So, so badly. I lost everything! And I had nowhere to go…”  
  
How anyone could look at August and see a man instead of the scared child huddled up in the semi-darkness of your back porch is beyond you.  
  
“I’m glad you came here. You’re safe here, but first, let’s go inside and we can talk once you’re warm and dry.” 

As you give him towels and clean clothes so he can go shower upstairs, you laugh at yourself for how easily you abandoned your stern resolve of making him apologise and understand where he went wrong. You honestly thought that you’d hold on to the hurt he caused you - but one look at his wretched, tiny form on your back porch erased all that.

When he emerges from the bathroom, freshly showered and smelling of your peach and yuzu shower gel, he’s looking much better and he wants to talk.  
  
“I’d like to apologise, Aunt Selene. I was terrible to you and I accused you of things I now know you never did. I am stupid and I was wrong.”  
  
“I’m glad you see that now. And while I was hurt at the time, I cannot NOT forgive you.” You say, the knot in your throat threatening to make it impossible for you to carry on. After a short moment of letting it subside, you sit next to August and look at him, waiting until his eyes meet yours. “You are like my own child in my eyes, that part you were right about. Not because I had fantasies about being a mother to whatever tiny defenseless human fate would give me - but because I got to know you as a separate individual, a good, gentle person who is nice to animals, polite to people and shows empathy and compassion for those who are not like him. It was clear to me from the start that you are a far better man than your father could have hoped to be. And by far, not as cynical and self-serving as your mother. And all this time, I wasn’t grooming you for some ominous purposes. I took you under my wing because I saw your parents not knowing what to do with you and not having time and attention to spare for you.”  
  
August looks away as you speak and then down, clenching his fists at his sides and then opening them. When he looks back up at you, there are fresh tears in his eyes.  
  
“I know that now, Aunt Selene. But… she… she told me all this. She made me think only she had my best interest in mind and that by keeping her happy, I’d be happy and at peace too. I’m sorry for those things I said. I now see it was her who was grooming me - brainwashing me and feeding me poisonous thoughts, cutting me off from my friends and my family. And mom and dad were okay with it so I thought she must be right. But then, it didn’t feel right.”   
  
He sighs and pauses, looking at your massive bear of a dog who is sleeping curled up at your feet.  
  
“I wanted so hard to be more.To be an equal, someone the adults no longer felt the need to push around. I thought that by letting her show me stuff and do stuff to me… I’d feel changed and more in control. Instead, I just saw that you were right. I’m still the clueless child. Maybe I should have waited? Found someone nice, maybe not as experienced; I should have made sure they at least liked me first.” 

August was always very perceptive about the people around him - he became aware early on of how vulnerable everyone is to his extraordinary good looks. From his father, who feels threatened and envious, to strangers who find themselves doing August all sorts of favours just to gain his attention for a fleeting moment. But beyond that, it’s been very isolating, because no one took interest in what lives inside the beautiful shell.  
  
“I’m sorry you got so hurt and betrayed by the grown-ups in your life, whose job was to protect you. Unfortunately, that will stay with you for a long time and it will take a while for the pain and sadness you feel to go away. But you need to learn to read people and to meet your needs first. Your first duty is to yourself, August. Only then will people worthy of you gravitate towards you and manipulative ones will be deterred from chipping at your wellbeing to feed theirs. Now, let’s call Liz so she can rest easily. But you’re staying with me for the time being.” 

You let him call his mother and tell her where he is and that he is safe while you finish making dinner. 

Once he finishes his phone call, he returns to you, reluctant.  
  
“Can we talk some more? I know it’s late, and… I really don’t want to go home yet.” 

“Sure. We can talk for as long as you need. I’ll just make us some tea for after dinner.”  
  
After that, he helps set the table, cutting bread, pretty much doing everything that still needs taking care of since you did the cooking.  
  
“I hate that I lost what I had before, Aunt Selene,” he starts. “I hate that I hurt you so much, and that I was so weak. I’m so sorry. But what I'm most sorry for, is that I can’t take it back and make it good again.” 

You walk up to him and hug him close, running your hand through the short hairs at the back of his head.  
  
“August. You did bad things, but you are not a bad person. Those things hurt me, yes, but I did not revoke my affection towards you over them. You are so young, and you are a good, no, you are an amazing young man with a lot of growing up to do. Someone just decided you are not allowed to grow at your own pace.” 

As you let go of him, he rests a hand on your waist and pulls you close again, clinging to you.  
  
Just as you consider gently moving away, you feel the sobs coursing through his body. He’s stifling them, but not doing a very good job.  
  
“Let’s eat, August, and then we can talk at length.” You say, making to move away. 

August’s grip on you tightens, but not too much, and then you feel his lips on your neck, shy and hesitant. Next, he tilts your chin and tries to kiss you. Clumsily.  
  
You sigh against his lips and free yourself from his arms.  
  
“August. Do not mistake fondness for attraction. We *really* need to talk. But first, let’s get some food in you.”  
  
He looks at you, looking so betrayed and lost himself, and like he wants to say something, but your tone was compelling enough that he goes to sit down, blushing a dark crimson.  
  
Once you fill his plate, serve it to him and sit down with some of the food yourself, he dares to look at you. 

“Don’t you love me, Aunt Selene?”  
  
You reach over to him with your hand stretched out, palm held upward and open, asking for his hand to rest on yours. When he does place his hand on top of yours, you speak.  
  
“I do love you, August. But there are several kinds of love. You are precious to me and I feel the urge to protect you from all harm. I do not want to claim you, to say that you were mine in that way. And the love you get from people who support you, protect you, believe in you and see the good in you is far more valuable and lasting than romantic love. Plus, what Celeste showed you was about attraction, arousal, and sex. And not everyone feels these things in the same way. I personally think that humans, even at 18 are still too young to understand what is going on with them, but to society, they are old enough to have sex, babies and driver’s licenses.”  
  
You pause, searching his face for signs he is taking it all in, thinking about it. 

“Love is so good and effortless when it’s genuine,” you continue. “You don’t have to manipulate, deceive, humiliate or coerce love from someone when there is actual love between you and them. Being used and discarded is not love. And you’re a beautiful and kind young man, August, people will want to add you to their conquests all the time. You’ll go to the disco or to a club or bar, and you’ll feel your body react to someone giving you attention - that’s desire, and it’s natural, especially when you’re as young as you are. But it can lead to trouble - desire sparks arousal, and arousal means the brain is no longer in command. This is when you make very bad decisions, like not using a condom, or not checking with the other person to see if they have any STDs. Unfortunately, you can still get herpes even if you use a condom.”  
  
“I know, I read that… mom bought me a sex ed book so she wouldn’t have to give me the talk herself.” August says, blushing to the tips of his ears.  
  
“Ah, how considerate and caring of her. On second thought, maybe it is for the best, because parents often have all sorts of misconceptions they pass on to their children. Anyway…”  
  
“Is… what if I… uh how do I say this?” August fidgets, pensively munching away at more of his portion. “What if I don’t only like girls?”  
  
“That’s perfectly alright. But, as a word of warning, be careful who you reveal that to. Many people are suspicious and do not believe that someone can be attracted to more than one gender, the socially acceptable one. Instead, they choose to believe these people are simply evil and selfish. If you are out as bisexual or whichever other word you choose to use, superiors at work will deny you career opportunities, gay people will say you are secretly straight and straight people will say you are secretly gay. And of course, I would try and make sure Noah didn’t find out. He seems like the kind of man who hates bisexuals a lot more than he hates gay people, and we know he hates gay people quite a lot.”  
  
“Why does it have to be so shitty? For me it always went without saying. I never questioned it.” August protests.  
  
“Because people are shitty, dearest. They are scared of what they cannot understand. And they are, for the most part, selfish. But there are enough people out there who are accepting and who have a lot of love to give, no matter who you are when they get to know you. You should seek those people out and make them your friends. The rest doesn’t matter. You can cut people who hurt you and who don’t respect you right out of your life. No remorse.”  
  
“Now that the stuff with her doesn’t hurt so much, I think I’ll do that - cut her out of my life. Forget anything ever happened and move on.”  
  
“Before you do that… she was talking about babies and making you support her. Did you guys use any sort of protection? Was she on birth control?”  
  
“Not that I know of. But she said it’s fine, I can’t get her pregnant from only a few times. Besides, I didn’t get to be in... _there-there_ more than once. We did other things.”  
  
You feel like the Earth is accelerating around you and throwing you out of orbit and into the void of space. Also, you could throw up right now, but the desire to murder Celeste with your bare hands is stronger and thanks to it, your lasagna dinner gets to stay in your stomach.  
  
“What things? August, I’m afraid to even ask, but, what exactly did Celeste do to you?”  
  
“She said she wanted me to be ruined for everyone else, because she was my first… such dumb shit, in hindsight.” August says, fiddling with his fork in his plate. “She let me put it everywhere. And then she did things to me. I didn’t like that as much. I mean, it was intense, but she kept telling me how worthless and useless I am, just a long string of insults that seemed to turn her on, but not me.”  
  
You are sitting in your spot, jaw on the table. _How. Gross._  
  
“Do you think she’ll still have a baby from me?” August asks, and the fear in his tone makes you burst into tears. It just shows he’s still too young for all of this.  
  
“No, Gu.” You say, forgetting about his outburst at hating that name he gave himself back when he was just learning to speak. He, surprisingly, smiles at hearing you use that name. In the end, it just shows there’s truth to your words - you haven’t stopped or changed how you feel about him. “Celeste is not going to have your babies.” You add. 

Whether by nature **or** by your intervention.  
  
“I promise to be careful… I don’t like babies. I don’t want one.” August says. “I did enough parenting stuff with Julia when she was a baby and I am glad she grew up.”  
  
“There will be times when arousal has the wheel. If you don’t want to risk anything, wait until you turn eighteen and then ask for a vasectomy. It’s reversible and it saves you a lifetime of worries and child support. I’ll take you to the clinic myself if you decide for it.”  
  
“Does it hurt?”  
  
“A bit, I guess, once it’s done. But like any surgery, it’s done under anaesthesia and you’re given painkillers for afterwards. You get to leave the clinic on the same day.”  
  
“I didn’t know that. I want one.”  
  
“Well then… we wait. And in the meantime, always use condoms you bought and checked yourself and get rid of them personally. Some women like to poke holes in condoms and to dig into the bin for an easy payday. Or just for a baby from a beautiful man.”  
  
August gasps.  
  
“That’s… do girls really do that? With jizz? That’s groooooosssss.”  
  
“Not to mention, illegal. But unfortunately society takes it for granted that all women want and deserve kids, and oops babies are seen as cute, not as a horrible abuse.”

“I… I’m not sure I want to have sex ever again, Aunt Selene.”  
  
You laugh softly.  
  
“You might still meet people who will make you reconsider. And if you do, you should be well prepared so the next time is fun and carefree.”  
  
“What if… I only want to feel love from another person, but don’t want to have sex with them too? Is it bad? Will I be judged?”  
  
“No, baby. It’s not bad. Your duty to yourself is to meet your needs in the best way possible. If what you need is an emotional connection, genuine and deep, you might find sex to not even be a factor. And anyone who doesn’t respect that doesn’t deserve you.”  
  
“Hm. I think I like that best. But this was not in the book mom gave me.”  
  
“Of course it wasn’t.” You say, rolling your eyes. 

“And, Aunt Selene? I really want to go to college. Can I still try? I know it’s been a few months and I missed the application period…”  
  
You give his words some thought, and, if you’re honest with yourself, this is the most joyful thing he’s said so far this evening. 

“You can apply in the fall. Start working on your application file soon, though.”  
  
“What do you do, what college did you go to? How come you have all this stuff and can always afford to help us too? Mom says you work for the government.”  
  
“August darling… the government can only sometimes afford me. I went to a cybernetics school and learned… well, computer stuff. I think you’d like it too. And then, one day, someone from the CIA asked me if I’d consider entering their training program.”  
  
August’s eyes go big and he gasps.  
  
“You do programming… for the CIA?! Are you a hacker, Aunt Selene?”  
  
“Not really. I sometimes help with problem solving and make conflicts go away.”  
  
August gasps again and he looks at you in that way that lets you know his brain wheels are turning. His eyes widen in realisation not long after and he covers his mouth with his palm briefly. 

_Clever, clever boy._  
  
“If you brush up on your foreign language skills and start coming to Brazilian Jiu Jitsu regularly… you might just make the fall class. Now, help me do the dishes and let’s go have tea on the back deck.” 

Not everything is alright. Some things are lost forever, but you were lucky. August came back from the dark, descending path he had started on. Now you can rest assured you’ll get to see him shine, because you know he has it in him to be great at whatever he sets his mind to.  
  
You bring your camera and snap a few shots of him on the floor, playing with the cats, or teaching your dog tricks and bribing him with treats. It's one way of making the moment less fleeting.   



End file.
